It doesn't suck -- at least not the way I thought it would.

As I sit here writing, I am eating a low-sugar coconut ice pop, hoping it will settle my stomach, as nothing else has worked.

I am on day three of my pre-op liquid diet.  Before I started, I was worried that I would be hungry all the time, that my stomach would be constantly rumbling, and I would be constantly distracted thinking about food.  I was very, very wrong.

I am not hungry, although I do crave certain foods.  For instance, Friday nights were typically spent on the deck with my pup, enjoying a good book and a nice glass of chardonnay.  Dinner was either some nice, crusty bread and a soft cheese, or pepperoni pizza.  As I move onto the next stage of my journey toward the sleeve and beyond, I will need to create some new rituals that are not based on food.

That said, my tummy is constantly grumbling.  It is not happy with the shakes I am supposed to be subsisting on now.  I have never been much a milk drinker; in fact, I rarely have milk in the house.  Now, I am expected to drink three milk-based drinks a day.  The result has been a near-constant state of nauseousness (is that a word?).  I am using lactose-free milk and lactaid, to no avail.

Today, I ditched the milk-based protein shakes for an apple-melon clear protein drink.  It didn't suck, but I cannot imagine once this is all over that it will become a staple in my fridge.  Unsweetened Iced Tea helped a bit, but when it came to eat again (120 calories would not sustain me for the day), I just couldn't bear the thought of a shake.  So I made the conscious decision to cheat, a little.

I bought large container of egg-drop soup and ate the whole thing.  My caloric intake will still be under 500, and I am hoping the protein in the eggs will outweigh the "solidity" (again, probably not a word) of the egg itself.

The weekend will be a challenge, as we celebrate my niece's high school graduation and wish her well on her journey to college.  There will be food everywhere, and another ritual that will need changing -- one of my favorites.  After each family gathering, my sister and I sit at the bar in her kitchen -- her on a high stool, me on the other side on a dining room chair, share a bottle of wine, and talk.  The guests are gone, the kids in their rooms, and the dogs are fighting over the dog bed.  I love this time.

But I remember that the reason I am doing this, having this surgery, is to have more time like this with her -- more years of these late-night talks about everything and nothing.